The Doors

We live in a time of greed and malice

Streaks along a chalice

A never-ending story

Of human suffering and unbalanced-

Giving; Instead of living. To see the beauty of what's around us, souls must look inside another's

Eyes, yet these same souls see into another-

Lie. Can not we live to be just happy? Or should we go on grieving

For what's not sappy? We're more concerned about a life some yearn-

For. Take and take and take some more. Take and take; no need to feed the poor; they're ok. They'll be just fine.

I hope one day

My debt will be paid

To keep the piece

Of my golden pie. Live well, live free; a notice there will be; a note upon my door;

Afloat, I might abhor; a beating;

Of wings no more-please

On your way out my door,

Please, oh please,

Kindly, close my door.